It was 3000 steps up to the site of the shrine of strong Bacchus, so the party decided to take the lift and paid the hooded attendant in coin as requested. The lift man was very chatty, explaining how he used to work on the pleasure boats ferrying people down to the underworld, but had to give that up when he developed a touch of rheum in his punt arm. Now his son has the job apparently. But these younguns, no sense of dignity. Playing downloads at full volume. Such disturbing echoes all round the caverns.

Madi asked about the shrine. “Oh yes, nothing much to see apart from a wall of rock. It seems a magician hid his magic refilling rum cauldron in a nook then cast a spell to surround it with rock so no one would steal it. Then, as the story goes, he became senile and forgot the entry word. Personally, I think it could be a marketing trick to get loads of people up here to look at an ordinary rock. Mind you, I’m not complaining. Apparently though, the magician is still alive spending his last days turning the cobwebs of man eating spiders into women’s clothing.”

Emmet now tied on a makeshift stretcher by his reversed designer underwear, groaned pathetically about needing his hair washed. Everyone, except the button, looked hopefully to Madi for instructions..

The light jazzy music in the elevator gave the long ride a rather ominous feel, Madi looked around and saw all the faces painted with expectation, waiting on her to reveal the plan. She cleared her throat and swished her mustache from side to side. "Alright, the plan is that the Bos'n will slip in and get the rum, then we head to the mouth of the volcano and summon Haderrmolk with use of the mixed drink, then we will trick him with the Captain's inflatable girl convincing him to cure Emmet before throwing her at him and running away." She nodded, mainly to convince herself that it was possible.

Everyone in the elevator nodded too, as if there were actually a half way decent chance the plan would work. The soft ding letting them know they had arrived was like the drum roll of doom. The motley group filed out of the lift, the hooded attendant still chatting away at them. They followed the neon signs to the shrine, not pausing to pick up the informative pamphlets that were everywhere. The hooded attendant had not been joking, there appeared to be nothing more than a rock wall.

Madi looked at the Bos'n shrouded in his ever present purplish mist, all their hopes rested on him now. If he could get the rum, they had an almost imperceptible chance of pulling this off and escaping before anyone realized their deception.

All eyes were on the Bos’n who for the first time looked uncertain. He hung his head sadly. “Ever since I have been on the medication from that doc with ‘love’ and ‘hate’ tattooed on his knuckles, things have been fine. I have seemed to float everywhere, man.”

The captain was not slow to offer encouragement on this score. “But I have seen that you are doing what is that floating about. Mean t’was real floatin’. Unless my medication be that it is playing up too.”

“Alright, I’ll give it a go,” said the Bos’n bravely, flashing like a neon light on the blink. Then without further ado, he vanished into the rock.

The seconds passed like minutes. And the minutes passed like minutes too. Everyone stood about fidgeting except those who were past caring or hadn’t really been explained as characters yet.

The Bos’n reappeared and looked round. “Quick, he mumbled almost incomprehensibly, fetch a cup.”

“What sort of cup?,” Madi asked.

“Anyy… Damn, I’ve swallowed it... MMM, tasty though... hic.”A wan smile spread across the Bosn’s face and he seemed to become even more blurry.“I’ll have another… hic…. go.”And he vanished.

It took several more excruciating (for everyone but the Bos'n anyway) attempts to get the requisite rum for the drink. Retreating back to the elevator they carefully mixed the only two ingredients of the drink, a painstaking task set to the inappropriate tune sung by their floating, mist veiled friend about having a whale of a tale (or two) about loving a mermaid girl who swapped him for a trout, and it was all true he swore on his tattoo... Or something.

For everyone else the ride was grim, for the prospect of trying to trick the fiery god of the mountain had a long list of consequences, but surprisingly no one opted out of this near suicidal mission, something about losing their health insurance. The hooded attendant seemed sad to see them heading up to the mouth of the volcano and his goodbye was ominously tearful. Madi lead the way, stomach in knots, carrying the glass of rum and ginger ale which needed only the addition of the small paper umbrella.

It was a solemn walk (or rather ride for the still unconscious Emmet) to the ravenous mouth of the volcano.The air was hot and smelled of sulfur, which no one found especially pleasant. The point of no return had been reached, and looking about the jagged rocks bathed in the furious red glow of the lava Madi found herself wondering if this was where he journey would end.

A flash of lightning tore across the suddenly dark sky splitting a nearby rock in two.Another struck the path behind the party crumbling a few boulders down into the smoking crater.There was a sound like distant thunder.“That sounds like godly laughter,” said one sailor. “It sounds evil,” replied another sailor nervously..“That laughter don’t half sounding like be evil it is,” observed the captain.“Hic,” said the Bos’n agreeably.Another streak of lightning zigzagging across the sky.A voice closer by.“You will kneel down and worship me.”To a man, and woman, the party knelt. Except for Emmet who was lying, the Bos’n who was floating at an odd angle, and the button.Madi, setting aside her fear, piped up. “Where are you exactly, oh god of the volcano?”“Over here,” came the voice. Members of the party ventured to peep left and right, but couldn’t see anything looking like a deity. “No, over here,” the voice spake again. “I’m the shadow on the rock in front of you.”“You are not very clear,” ventured Madi looking at the silhouette of a piggy shaped head with horns cast by the red glow of the lava.“Well, you know now!...Bring forward the sacred drink and leave it on the rock.”The captain gave Madi the little umbrella. She inserted it into the rum and ginger drink and deposited this on the rock, before returning to her place.“Good, good. Now bring forward the one to be cured,” the voice continued in its terrible monotone.Emmet was fetched and left. He started to stir.“Now, the fresh faced maiden must cast herself into the volcano!”Madi heard a wheezing puffing sound from behind her. Followed by a loud pop and cursing.“Quickly!,” The voice insisted.“What if we haven’t got a woman in the party?” demanded Madi hopefully.“You know you have. She’s disguised as a man!”Madi’s moustache twitched so rapidly it almost took off and mated with a passing butterfly.Everyone in the party looked around, scratched their heads, and then pointed at Emmet who was just getting up and yawning.“I knews it all being along. Yes, Emmet is a woman,” The captain concluded.Emmet was suddenly alert and looking frightened. “I’m not a woman, really I am not.”Madi ran forward. “Emmet dear, you are alright. I’ve been so worried.”She gave him a hug.Just then, one of the piggy god’s horns fell off.“Oops,” came a voice.Madi gently let Emmet go and purposefully strode round the back of the rocks.Moments later she returned with the old crone who’d met them at the entrance. She was wearing a piggy glove puppet with a horn missing.Madi looked at the old woman quizzically. “You have some explaining to do old crone. I get the bit about Emmet being cured by the sulphur… but why all the god stuff? And why did you need a young maiden? Not that we have any.” She said in the deepest voice she could manage.

"Because I'm old and I want to retire! This is the fire god's summer house but he is never here, even though he was supposed to hire a replacement for me years ago. Yet here I am still, wasting away my golden years alone in a volcano instead of playing bingo and living in a nice 55+ community with a hot tub." The crone continued to talk, even though no one was really listening.

Emmet, who was feeling much better was quite confused by all the commotion, very worried about his glorious locks in the high stress environment of the volcano and the possibility that they might catch fire, caught up as they were in their own breeze. He was so preoccupied with the prospect that he was quite unable to pay attention.

Madi however was more sympathetic to the old woman's plight, despite having no interest in a complete retelling of her life's story at the moment. Truthfully it was quite unfair for the woman to be stuck here, wasting away her life, while the fire god frolicked about the cosmos. "Why don't you just leave?" She inquired.

The crone looked truly taken aback, as if the thought was mind boggling. "Leave? Leave? And where would I go that the fire god would not find me when he returns and is angry about the dust?"

The mustached maid considered the old woman's words, nodding as they made quite a valid point. After some though she offered a plan, "You can leave, and we will write out a note that we came to the volcano on a quest, and upon finding you dead disposed of your body in the most convenient way possible, by throwing it in the volcano. He cannot seriously expect you to live forever right?"

"You know... I think that might just work." The crone clapped her gnarled old hands together happily. "Finally I will be free of this wretched place!"

Madi gave her mustache a victory twirl, "I love it when a good plan comes together."

“One thing, though,” Madi added. “Would you be able to tell us how to transport the ash safely. And more importantly, how to get out of here without losing the other half of our expedition?”

The old nameless crone beamed and pointed vaguely. “It is straightforward. There is a scenic path through the mountains. Although treacherous to either side it leads straight to the…”

She paused mid sentence and slapped her head, sighing deeply. “Did I mention the Guardian? I didn’t, did I? I’d forget my knitting if it wasn’t in my handbag.”

Emmet’s ears perk up just as he finally manages to get his hair under control. He steps forward, chest out. “If there is a measly Guardian, I will deal with it, violently if necessary. Do not fear old withered woman.”

The crone continued sadly. “It’s not that simple. The Guardian may appear in any form and is very cunning. If turning up as a male, it will try and steal away the female in your party. If female, it will seduce one of the males…. And either have its wicked way or devour the victim depending upon its mood. If feeling very needy, it might take everyone, one by one.

But don’t be concerned about my safety brave knight. It knows I am a member of staff, so it won’t trouble me… On the other hand, if it sees me going this might ruin our plan for my escape… Whatever are we to do, brave mustachioed escort?”